


Kintsukuroi, Or To Repair With Gold

by deathlybijoumme



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: I wrote this all in one go, It's not exactly romantic but it's there if you squint, Lots of implied violence, Nudity, Other, PTSD, Post Hera fixing, Pre Paranoia Game, Trans Character, Trans!Hilbert, fulmi, the binder struggle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 13:26:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12842127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathlybijoumme/pseuds/deathlybijoumme
Summary: Hey so... my Headcanon for Hilbert's back story is not very pleasant. He's really badly injured in it a lot. Don't read if reading mentions of that bothers you.





	Kintsukuroi, Or To Repair With Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so... my Headcanon for Hilbert's back story is not very pleasant. He's really badly injured in it a lot. Don't read if reading mentions of that bothers you.

Eiffel opened the door to the observation deck, his face one of upset and slight disgust. He was holding a water bottle and a wash cloth, which made the skin on Hilbert's arms prickle a little. Eiffel wasn't very violent, but he didn't like the look on his face, and it wasn't like Hilbert could go anywhere, since he was chained to the floor.

“So apparently, you haven't gotten an actual bath since before the showers broke, and the Commander really doesn't want you getting sick but she's too busy to monitor you right now, and I have to do it.” Eiffel put the water bottle and washcloth on the floor in front of Hilbert.

Hilbert raised an eyebrow. “I am not getting naked in front of you two.”

“I'm not happy about this either Doc, but unless you want an infection…” Eiffel leaned against the wall.

“Why would anyone want infection?” Hilbert muttered before speaking up a bit. “Am not even really asking to be left alone, just to be allowed to bathe somewhere without cameras.”

Eiffel snorted. “Aw, don't tell me you're shy Doctor.”

“Honestly E-Eiffel, I don't want to see him naked anymore than he wants me to.” Hera chimed in, her voice sounding the way it feels to touch something like fart putty on accident. “And there is somewhere w-where there aren't cameras, but I can still make him a s-stain on a wall if I have to.”

Both humans looked confused for a second before Hilbert quietly said “Old laboratory.”

“Hell no!” Eiffel immediately said. “What if there's another spider in there? No thanks, I choose life!”

“You act you are the one getting naked.” Hilbert grumbled.

“Eiffel, please. If I see him naked, I can't unsee it. I don't know how. And I really don't want to see it.” Hera pleaded.

“I can't unsee it either!” Eiffel said, throwing his hands in the air. Hilbert rolled his eyes.  
  
“You already have, and you have to do it anyway.” Hera pointed out.

“I didn't see anything, he hit me with a towel first and after that, I was too busy running away in fear with an angry Russian yelling at me that he was going to hurt me very badly if I ever did that again. And that is a direct quote.” Eiffel said.

“Eiffel, it is two against one. You lose.” Hilbert finally interjected, feeling a bit embarrassed over the aforementioned situation where Eiffel walked in on him in the bathroom.

“That's not how it works! What about-”

“Really?” Hilbert narrowed his eyes. “Is democracy not about common interest being carried out, or is that big American lie?” Hilbert of course, was messing with Eiffel, and was quite delighted internally when Eiffel didn't know how to respond to that.

“Fine.” Eiffel finally said, removing his spare handcuffs from his belt and putting them on Hilbert's wrists before undoing his larger shackles. “But one wrong move, and you brain is going-”

“I know, I know.” Hilbert interrupted, already feeling his heart beginning to race in panic and memory. “I am aware of what you would do.”

\------

Eiffel half dragged Hilbert into the old lab and turned around. “Okay, do your thing.”

Hilbert huffed, turned, and started pulling his clothes off. Eventually he had a bit of trouble and started grumbling about it rather loudly.

Eiffel turned and sighed at the noise. “What-” he started to say, and then he froze. Hilbert was stuck in his binder, it being very hard to strip while one was handcuffed, and ordinarily Eiffel would find that funny. But well… the sight of Hilbert's back made it less funny, to say the least.

Hilbert's back sported a large, roughly diamond shaped burned scar that was puffy on the edges and had a large divot in the center of it. Metal shone in said divot, and Eiffel realized that it was one of those spine braces he'd heard about. Or maybe it was an actual part of his spine. The… dip was deep enough for that to be plausible. It made Eiffel's stomach lurch at how fundamentally wrong it was, and he took a step back. Hilbert heard, and stiffened. He slowly disentangled himself from his binder and slid it down his arms.

“See something you like?” he asked bitterly as he stretched.

“Who did that to you?” Eiffel said impulsively.

“No one you should worry about.” Hilbert said, picking up the water bottle. “He is dead. It no longer matters.” I also don't know his name, Hilbert thought to himself. 

“What did he do? Is that your spine? Did he break your fucking-”

“No.” Hilbert sighed. “It is not my spine. Is piece of metal that… ugh.” He rubbed his temple, muttering to himself in Russian. “Without it I would barely be able to walk, and would likely need assistive device to do so at all.”

Eiffel looked at him with large, sad, green eyes. Hilbert was reminded of the first cat his sister brought home. The only difference was that Eiffel had a ring of gold in his eyes. He shook his head, shoving the memory aside to be catalogued later so he wouldn't forget it again.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Giving me that look.” Hilbert said as he started scrubbing dirt off his skin. The feeling was euphoric. A soft sigh flowed from his mouth as he closed his eyes and thanked god and the universe and Minkowski having common sense for the literal, honest fucking _pleasure_ of being able to wash again. He felt a few tears prick at the corners of his eyes and blinked it away. Not right now. He could cry in relief later.

Eiffel was still staring at him.

“Eiffel. Stop. Staring. At. _Me_.” Hilbert felt… angry. Disgusting. Like he was being paraded around at some stupid government or Goddard social event, with people either not giving him the time of day, looking at him like they'd like to take him outside and shoot him, or like they were hungry and he was a chocolate and strawberry tea cake covered in powdered sugar.

“Sorry, it's just-” Eiffel paused. “It's hard to **not** look.” That made Hilbert feel angrier somehow.

“If you want to study something, look at my shoulder. One with peony and celestial bodies.” Hilbert kept washing, but let his shoulder remain mostly visible. “Is almost as bad. Same man did it, that time with just hot oil.”

“Why are you showing me this?” Eiffel said after he'd had a good, long look at Hilbert's shoulder. At the tiny divots hidden in those pretty petals and stars. Hilbert hadn't made a move to cover himself at all. His throat felt like he was holding back vomit even though he wasn't, like he was choking on his words and the things he saw on Hilbert's body. “Why- why the hell are you telling me any of this?”

Hilbert looked at him over his shoulder (his burnt, scarred, tattooed shoulder, fuck, who did that to him-) coldly. “Maybe I want to torture you with not knowing why. Maybe I am trusting you. Maybe I am trying to gain sympathy. Maybe all three.” He turned away. “You'll likely never know.” There was a pause as Hilbert scrubbed over his shoulder. “I killed him.” Hilbert was surprised that he said it.

Eiffel felt sick that he couldn't find a reason why Hilbert shouldn't have killed whoever did this to him. Not when he was looking at the result. “Okay.” Eiffel said softly. Hilbert started shaking slightly. “Hilbert?”

Hilbert took in a shaky breath. “Am fine. I-” he took another breath. “I don't know why it bothered me. Why it still bothers me. He deserved it. He was only one who-” Hilbert stopped. He couldn't think about it. But he couldn't get away either. His spine, his back, his shoulder, the back of his neck- he was marked all over by that man. And Eiffel was looking at all of it. Eiffel was the last person he wanted to let see any of it, let him see how weak he was, but Eiffel wouldn't fucking look away. “Just turn around.” Hilbert said quietly. “Please.”

Eiffel did. Hilbert bathed slowly. He dragged the cloth over his body and let himself get completely lost in horrible memory. His movements were fluid, automatic. Like a very graceful femme fatale puppet. Years of practice and discomfort went into making that how he moved when he wasn't fully there, and in the back of his mind, he was glad that Eiffel wasn't looking. Glad he couldn't see what a wretched mess he was.

Eiffel waited till he heard Hilbert struggle his binder back on, and he turned around. Hilbert was cleaner, but also worse to look at. He was absent mindedly washing the dirt off his face, but Eiffel could tell by looking at him that he wasn't thinking in the present. He gently grabbed Hilbert's arm and walked him to the observation deck. He wouldn't be dragging him anymore today. Hilbert slowly got back to lucidity as they walked, and by the time he was again chained to the floor by his wrists, he knew where he was and was fully there.

Eiffel turned to leave, but Hilbert grabbed his shoulder. Eiffel looked at him, and Hilbert felt his heart hurt. There was a lot of sadness and pity in Eiffel's eyes. Hilbert felt like he'd crawled in sewage, despite the fact that he'd in fact just gotten clean. Eiffel hugged Hilbert tight suddenly. One hand on the back of his head, the other on his shoulder blade. A very ‘Dad’ sort of hug.

“I won't tell anyone.” Eiffel murmured into his ear. “I swear I won't tell anyone.”

They stood like that awhile, Hilbert clutching at Eiffel's arms like he was the last thing on earth and Eiffel understanding just a little what Hilbert had meant when he laughed at Minkowski for saying she'd break him.

Not like you can break the broken much more, right?


End file.
